


Or the Modern, Modern Promethius

by ladyshroom



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Frankenstein AU, I don't do titles, M/M, oops I wrote a fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyshroom/pseuds/ladyshroom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first sight I laid my eyes upon once being pulled from the void that comes before one’s creation was the face of a man, wreathed in a halo of golden light. He smiled down at me,a warm, gentle expression. His eyes looked to be searching for something. I realized that this beautiful creature had pulled me from the oblivion; I could never love him enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Or the Modern, Modern Promethius

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This Attack on Titan JeanMarco Frankenstein!AU fanfiction will be, to a varying degree, based off of Mary Shelly's novel, Frankenstein. I will not quote directly, but please keep in mind that I am NOT claiming her story as my own (that would be arrogant and stupid <3 ) IF I write something that you find too closely resembles the original text, please NOTIFY ME before straight up reporting it- I will do my best to correct the error.
> 
> This whole thing is actually just happening because A) I NEEDED to write something B) I just discovered coffee and C) My English class is reading Frankenstein and my teacher told us to buddy up and write short little things from the creature's POV describing his first moments and interactions with Victor leading up to his initial disappearance. I started writing and... it just turned into this.  
> IMPORTANT: I am writing this AS I READ THE NOVEL. So if anyone here has already read the novel, and I write something in this fic that totally fucks with the story line, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I honestly don't care if you spoil it for me.  
> I don't write long chapters! Sorry guys! 
> 
> Okay babies, enjoy.

The first sight I laid my eyes upon once being pulled from the void that comes before one’s creation was the face of a man, wreathed in a halo of golden light. He smiled down at me, a warm, gentle expression. His eyes looked to be searching for something. I realized that this beautiful creature had pulled me from the oblivion; I could never love him enough.

 

As the light in the room dimmed, his hair lost its luminous quality, becoming a pale blond. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the new sensation, shaking as energy coursed through my stiff body. The air in the room was cool. The man’s face changed; twisting into something completely different from the beautiful expression he had worn seconds before. I felt shame; I had no idea what, but I had done something to disappoint my creator and savior. His golden eyes darted around the space surrounding me, avoiding looking directly at my form, and with a jolt he straightened up and left the room, the door open in his wake.

 

I tentatively sat up, curling and uncurling my fingers as my hands rested on my lap. _Maybe I should go find him- Surely it’s not too late to fix whatever it is that I have or haven’t done that upset him._

 

Gripping the edges of the cold metal slab with my hands, I swung my legs over the edge, my feet gently brushed against the stone floor. It was slightly damp. I shakily stood, experimentally shifting my weight from foot to foot, and decided that moving from my current placement was a possibility. My depth perception was off in the start; I stumbled the second step I took, and I had to catch myself on the table across the narrow isle. A few glass beakers and a stack of paper covered in cramped and intricate lettering got knocked to the floor in the process, the bottles shattered and their contents spilled, staining the paper. The carefully applied ink bled, the words that I could not have read to begin with became blurred and unintelligible. I added this to the growing list of things I needed to apologize for, and focused on making it to the chamber’s door without disturbing any more of the room’s contents.

 

The stairwell beyond the room’s door was drafty, and I shuddered slightly as I ascended the dimly lit stairs. Trailing my hand against the wall, I took in the rough texture on the stone as it lightly grazed the skin of my fingertips. The temperature rose slightly at the top of the stairs, the air less humid up there. I walked through the open doorway into a better lit corridor. After seeing no signs of the man, I approached the first doorway to the left, and looking inside I found a room full of rectangular objects stacked upon each other, some of which lay on a wooden table, opened in half with more words printed across their pages. There were also papers strewn about containing the same complicated scrawl as the papers in the basement. Despite my intrigue at the books, the room lacked that which I had set out to find. I return to the corridor, and proceed to check the remaining rooms, finding them all to be uninhabited just like the first. The last doorway opened up to another staircase, this one made of smooth, dark wood. At the top of the stair was a door, and from the other side I could hear rustling noises. Worry bloomed inside of me, and I opened the door with, perhaps, excessive force to find a room bathed in a cool blue glow let in from the window and I approached the curtained structure from which the noises originated, gently pulling back the dark cloth.

 

The man’s thrashing movements came to a halt and his eyes snapped open, disoriented.  I realized that maybe, as I woke up to light; the light I had let into his resting place awoke him as well. I’m not sorry for this however, because his sleep seemed troubled. I felt a sense of pride- though it was only a small thing that paled in comparison for all he had done for me- I had saved him from some unknown terror. He looked up at me with bleary eyes, and my face contorted into the best lopsided grin I could manage _\- perhaps he will think better of me now?_ I opened my mouth and pushed air through my lungs, trying to communicate to him that I was glad that he was alright, but to my horror what came out was a garbled, unintelligent sound that seemed to trigger something in him, and I watched as his shoulders tensed and his expression became guarded.

 

Trying to remedy the situation while I still had a chance, I hesitantly reached out my hand towards him, to rest it on his shoulder or to cup his cheek, I am not sure. Before my hand reached its destination, those eyes widened in recognition, and that same painful expression from our first meeting appeared on his face, marring his handsome features. My grin fell slightly, probably turning into a grimace, as I watched him throw back his covers and launch himself off of the far side of his bed, nearly falling in the process. He quickly recovered, though, and backed out of the room, only dragging his gaze from my form when he bumped into the doorframe, whirling around and disappearing down the stairs.

 

I stood there, dejected, in stunned silence, watching the distorted shadow my figure cast on the rumpled sheets. Why had he run from me, whom he created? What had I done to earn such a reaction? Apart from the incident with the ruined papers in the downstairs chamber, I couldn’t recall committing any wrongs. And surely he couldn’t have known about the papers, already?

 

The room suddenly felt cold without him there, so I looked for something to shield my bare flesh from the light but ever present breeze in his home. I settled on a long coat, it was too small but it covered enough of me. It smelled like him which was comforting.

 

I left the room when I realized he wasn’t coming back, and this time, in the ground level corridor I paid attention to the walls instead of the doors. They were decorated with pictures of people, like in appearance to my creator. Their skin, I noticed, was fair; their cheeks tinged pink; their eyes were bright glues, greens, and browns; and they all wore clothes that covered their figures well.

 

At the end of the line, one of the picture boxes was blank, but when I passed, it changed; it seemed to mimic my own gestures.  This face was different from the others- where its eyes should have been a clear blue or a warm brown, they were cloudy off-white. They were sunken into their sockets and the faint glow they emitted only emphasized this. The face’s skin was an ashen grey color and patches of skin were missing, revealing the muscles and tendons below. The black hair was tangled and un-kept, falling in clumps to frame his sharp jaw.  I raised a hand to gently prod at the flesh of my cheek; once again watching the mirror mimicked my actions as my fingers brushed against uncovered teeth. By this time, I had figured out that the hideously different face I was looking at was my own. This must have been why my creator ran from me, flinched at the notion of a touch from my bony hands. I’d seen a lot of faces on the wall, and while they all varied in shape, color, and expression, mine was different from each of them.

 

I remembered how small he had looked when he had scrambled off of his bed and made the connection that, when standing at his full height, the top of his head only came up to my chest. Maybe this wasn’t normal either.

 

Maybe something went terribly wrong before I awoke, an event which I knew, somehow, only took place a few short hours ago- yet I felt as if miles spanned between now and then. So much was different. I had come into this world ready to love and be loved, to learn and achieve things and help improve things. I wanted to share in something I wasn’t sure what to call with the man I had opened my eyes too, and he abhorred my very existence. Regretted giving me life. Maybe even wished me dead.

 

I knew then that I could not stay in that cold, lonely building. He would be back, eventually, and I could not bear to see his beautiful face contorted into a mask of disgust because of me. When he returned, I would be gone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> WHELP.  
> DOES MY WRITING STYLE EVEN MAKE SENSE IM SORRY. /cries/  
> I have a tumblr lady-shroom.tumblr.com please please please leave feedback there, I never check my inbox on Ao3


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